


It Ain't Too Bad

by ArthursImpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Dean Winchester, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Brief Castiel Moments, Brotherly Love, Crying Dean, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Dean is Loved, Dean is a Softie, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Sibling Dean Winchester, Good Sibling Sam Winchester, Nightmares, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam is a softie, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witches, Worried Sam, Younger Dean Winchester/Older Sam Winchester, temporarily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 03:26:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthursImpala/pseuds/ArthursImpala
Summary: The brothers are out on a witch hunt, that was meant to be as simple as a milk run. Of course, with the Winchester luck they have, when has it ever been easy?After a hunt gone wrong, Sam is left to look after his much, much younger brother. It's not like he's taken care of children before.Hopefully Dean won't be a pain in the ass.





	1. Dean?

He sat there, little eyes widened in pure fear, small hands wringing together in discomfort and confusion. The clothing — the clothes he adorned just five minutes ago — pooled off and around him in heaps of flannel and denim. It wasn’t long until small, quiet whimpers escaped his mouth. 

 

Sam sat up, rubbing the back of his head lightly. The witch had tossed him across the room with a great amount of force, and he was knocked out upon impact. She was fairly old, taking her pleasure in cursing the town's inhabitants in several different ways. Some of her victims grew old too fast for their bodies to comprehend, resulting in painful deaths for the lot of them. Whilst some others started to deage, enough to leave them as young children. The brothers managed to track her down to an abandoned house, before the entire town became one age or the other. Of course, with the Winchester’s luck, she didn’t stop without a bit of a tussle. Sam remembered her getting a hold of Dean after a few punches were thrown around, and he heard her speaking in some dead language he couldn’t understand. He had tried to run up and pull her off when she flicked her wrist without a second's glance at him and he flew backwards. 

As Sam looked around the basement, his eyes fell upon the young boy, who couldn’t have been more than three years old, sitting on the floor, surrounded by oversized clothing. His face was red and blotchy and he seemed to be crying. Sam stood up, confusion plastered across his features as he neared the toddler. The little boy looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, whimpering almost silently. Sam crouched down hesitantly, sitting on his haunches. 

“Uh,” he paused. Looking down at the clothing, he realised that was what Dean was wearing earlier. He gulped in worry. “Dean? Is, is that you, buddy?” he asked the boy, who nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.  
That was what Sam feared. 

“M-my name Dean.” he said, a small look of triumph on his face. Sam in turn nodded, panic set in his features. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn’t know how to take care of a child! He rubbed his face, sighing in exasperation. Christ, he didn’t know what to do. 

“Okay. Okay, alright. Um, do you know who I am?” Sam asked him, hopefully. If his brother — his much younger brother — knew who he was, it would make the entire situation easier for him, as he wouldn’t have to worry about gaining the kids trust or anything. Dean nodded once more, his little mouth widening into a smile.

“Yeah! You Sammy.” he replied, bouncing his arms up and down happily. Sam grinned, sighing in relief. 

“Good, that’s good, Dean.” The little boy lowered his head shyly at the praise. 

Sam never would’ve believed that this would ever happen to them. It was so peculiar to see his once older brother become a teenager the first time, but this took the top. When Dean was turned into an old man, he had no problem with memory. When he was a teenager, he still knew who he was, and about the Mark. In both situations, they were more of a physical change, rather than an emotional or mental one. It seemed, that with this change, this curse, it had affected him in more ways than one. It worried him, worried Sam enough to get him thinking, that if it had already changed his mindset, what else would it impact? What else could it impact? Nevertheless, seeing the smile on Dean’s face, the innocence he has, dissipated most of his worries and made him want to pick him up and take him away from all the evil and harm in the world.  
Sam took another look around the room; it seemed like the witch was dead, as the bullet between her eyes would tell. Dean must’ve got a hold of his gun as she was chanting away whatever spell she had placed on him. If only he had gotten it in time.  
Yet, Sam was still confused. The brother’s thought that if they killed the witch, the spells would be undone, for every person affected. But, it seemed that wasn’t the case. 

Sam knew they couldn’t stay here in the house. They’d have to get back to the bunker, where it was safer and more secure. But, Sam also knew that Dean couldn’t live like a little kid without a few things from the store. 

“Hey, do you remember what happened?” Dean looked lost. Sam rephrased himself. “Do you remember what happened before I woke up? Maybe like, the witch or how we got here?” The little boy shook his head, floppy blond hair bouncing around haphazardly. “Alright, that’s okay, buddy. Um...” Sam bit his lower lip, trailing off. If only he could call for Castiel, but the angel was off to hell knows where and he wasn’t picking up his phone. Sam battled with himself, tapping his fingers together in a nervous tick. Alright. Store, dinner, sleep. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Maybe Dean wouldn’t be too difficult to take care of. That, at least, made Sam feel better. 

Dean, on the other hand, was squirming around a bit, obviously bored and uncomfortable. 

“Sammy?” His little voice caught Sam’s attention, and he looked back down at him. “I cold. Can we go home?” His eyes were wide once again in hope. Sam nodded, shifting on his legs. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. But we just need to stop off at a store beforehand, okay?” Sam told him, looking around for something he could cover up his nude brother with. He decided he’d just wrap him up in older Dean’s flannel shirt. Pulling out his penknife, he picked up the shirt and began cutting part of the sleeves off to make the arms shorter for Dean. He sent Dean a mental apology for ruining his shirt.

“What doin’?” Dean asked, dropping the pant leg he was currently playing around with. He tilted his head in curiosity. Sam looked up at him, and smiled. Okay, he had to admit, his brother was downright adorable. 

“I’m making this shirt fit you a bit better, okay? Then we can get you dressed so we can get outta here. Sound good to you, little guy?” Sam explained, quickly making a mental note to use that pet name more often. Dean nodded enthusiastically, struggling to stand up. Sam finished with the shirt, and Dean whined, unable to stand on his own. 

“Sammy, up, pwease.” Sam did indeed pick him up, chuckling lightly. He was surprised at Dean’s mannerism. He placed the three year old in his lap, helping pudgy arms into the oversized shirt sleeves. Dean grinned, giggling when he noticed how the sleeves outstretched past his hands. “Wook Sammy!” he flapped his arms. Sam smiled down at him, his heart warming at his little brother. God, he feared he would love him too much. 

“Wow, De, that’s awesome! Are those your wings?” he asked the boy, who nodded furiously.

“Yeah! ‘M a birdie!” he cried, flapping his arms harder, jumping out of Sam’s lap. He seemed to get his legs working again, and he was soon running around the room, making childlike bird noises. Sam smirked, gathering all of older Dean’s clothing in his hands and tucking it all under his arm. As Dean continued bouncing around, Sam stepped over to him, picking him up swiftly and holding him up in his arms. Dean squealed. His mouth gaped open as Sam began heading up the stairs. “‘M so high up!” he said, twisting around. He wrapped one arm around Sam’s neck, pressing his face to Sam’s cheek, watching over Sam’s shoulder as the ascended. The now older Winchester lightly ran his fingers across Dean’s back, tickling him ever so slightly.  
Dean giggled once more, turning his head into Sam’s neck. 

Once they exited the abandoned home, Dean suddenly became transfixed with Sam’s hair, and how it curled at the edges. He ran his fingers through it, occasionally tugging on it as well. It was when Sam stopped at the car that Dean let out a yawn, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. 

“Tired Sammy.” he said, pressing himself closer to his brother. Sam nodded, fishing his hand into his pocket to grab the car keys he took from Dean’s pants whilst still holding the boy. 

“That’s okay,” he said, unlocking the driver’s side door. He lowered both him and Dean inside, shuffling on the seat to sit comfortably. He closed the door and Dean yawned again. “If you want, you can take a nap while I drive us to the store, okay? Then we can get you a carseat and some new clothes to fit you, buddy. That sound good?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright.” Before Sam started the car, he helped Dean sit in his lap whilst also resting laying against him. He carded his fingers through his brother’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. It seemed to sooth Dean, who slowly began to nod off. He had his thumb in his mouth as he dozed off, and Sam was tempted to take a picture. (Which, of course, after a bit of mental debating with himself, he did anyway.)  
Sam sat back in the seat for a few minutes to think. He knew their childhood was rough, hell, it was downright horrible. But seeing Dean happy, before he knew about the horrors of the world, made Sam happy as well. Because he knew Dean’s childhood was ripped away from him the moment their mom died. And yet he still fought to give Sam one, anyway. He didn’t want Sam to live this life like we was bound to; he wanted Sam to have a childhood.  
And he worked hard to give him a pretty damn good one.

Honestly, it made Sam guilty. Why did Dean have to be both the mother and father for him, when he himself was never really given one? Why did Dean have to grow up, be the perfect soldier their father wanted him to be? It wasn’t fair.

As Dean continued to sleep, Sam held him close to his chest, afraid that if he let go, he’d lose whatever innocence his brother has. He knew he had to promise him something. Promise him that he’ll protect him, whether older or younger. Because it should have never been Dean’s job to protect him in the first place. 

 

 

Dean was still asleep once Sam pulled into the Walmart parking lot, which was located pretty close to the bunker. Sam was grateful for Dean’s calmness, and for the short ride, which only had them in the car for the better part of an hour.  
Sam shut off the Impala, leaning over to the glove box, trying not to jostle the little boy too much. He figured he’d try to let the little boy sleep a bit more, as he seemed pretty tired. So, carefully picking up Dean and resting his head in the crook of his neck, Sam opened the door and stepped outside of the car.

 

It was the rattling of the cart that woke up Dean. He rubbed his eyes with his fist, snuggling into Sam even more, if that was even possible. 

“We home?” he asked quietly, poking Sam on the shoulder. 

“Not yet, buddy. We’re at the store right now, but we’ll get you home soon.” Sam replied. Dean only nodded, turning his little head away from Sam to look around them inside the store. They were heading towards the clothing section.  
Sam turned into little area meant for little boys, and started browsing through the clothing. “Do you see anything you like, Dean? Whatever you want, I’ll get for you.” It was helpful that the boys very rarely had to worry about money, due to their credit cards. The little boy smiled, pointing over to the wall that displayed pajamas that were superhero themed. Sam ditched the rack of little flannel shirts and headed over to where Dean was pointing.  
As they came nearer, Dean let out a squeal, almost jumping out of Sam’s arm. He scrambled to keep him steady, but the little boy was too excited. He began to make grabby hands at the Batman pajamas that were hanging up. 

“Wook! Wook, Sammy! Batman!” Dean cried, trying to lean forward to grab at the shirt. Sam chuckled, using his free hand to grab the clothes off the rack and hold it out for Dean to see. 

“You want these?” he asked, to which Dean nodded. 

“Yeah! Yeah!” 

“Alright, alright. We’ll get these for you, buddy.” he lowered the pajamas into the cart, making sure to grab an extra pair in case the first got dirty. He did end up grabbing a red and black plaid shirt, as well as a pair of jeans and a black and light blue pair of running shoes. He figured that they’d be spending most of his time as a little kid in the bunker, so he needn’t worry about too many outfits. He grabbed a few t-shirts and little pair of sweatpants, too, before he headed over to the underwear section.  
Dean immediately tried to go for the Batman underwear as well, so Sam added that to the cart. 

Once they were finished getting the boy some clothing, Sam found one of the cheapest car seats he could find, and placed the box in the cart. He steered the cart to the front of the store when they passed the toy section, and Dean began whining. He stopped the cart, pushing Dean away from his shoulder so he could look at him better.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“I wan’ toy, Sammy! Can pwease get toy?” he begged, grabbing the back of Sam’s shirt and pulling himself to his left shoulder. 

“Alright, hold on.” he crouched down and set the boy on the ground. “I guess we should get you some toys to play with, huh?” The little boy nodded enthusiastically, turning around and running to the toy section, bare feet padding across cold flooring. Sam quickly turned the cart around, walking after him. “Slow down, Dean!” he told him, but the boy didn’t listen. “Hey!” he raised his voice, adding a lot more authority to it. Dean halted, turning around with wide green eyes. “You can’t run off like that, De. Okay? I don’t want you to get lost or hurt, especially when I can’t see you.” Sam explained to him, now crouching back down to the boy. Dean’s lower lip poked out in a bit of a pout, which started to tremble. Dean threw himself at Sam, wrapping his arms around his neck in a hug. 

“I sorry, Sammy.” he said, sniffling. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, De. It’s okay, you didn’t know.” He rubbed his back soothingly while he waited for the little boy to quiet down. “See? I’m not mad at you. Never mad, buddy.” he explained to him, kissing the top of his head. And part of that was true for both older and younger Dean.  
“Now, c’mon. Let’s get you some toys and stuff, ‘kay? Just hold onto the cart if you’re gonna walk.” 

“M’kay, Sammy.” Dean told him, gripping one of the metal bars in his fist. They finished the rest of the way to the toy section, and Dean looked up expectantly at Sam. 

“Alright, go ahead. Stay in this aisle though.” Dean jumped up and down happily before walking down the aisle curiously, looking at all the toys the store had to offer. Sam stepped ahead of the cart, pulling it along with him as he followed Dean. The boy stopped in front of a plastic Batman figurine, pulling it off the shelf and sitting down with it. It was still in its box, but that didn’t seem to faze Dean. He held it up to Sam as the older man crouched down beside him. 

“Can I pwease?” Dean asked nicely. 

“Of course!” Sam told him. Dean beamed, standing back up. He turned and gasped, running over to the stuffed animals at the end of the aisle. Sam followed patiently, smiling to himself. He was so glad he could make this Dean happy, and how easy it was as well. Part of him wished he could keep Dean like this forever. 

“Up! Up!” Dean cried, pointing up at one of the stuffed animals above his head. Sam reached up and pulled the stuffy down, handing it to Dean. It was a light blue unicorn, with patches of pink, yellow and white on it, too. Dean marveled at it, mouth gaping open in an ‘O’. “Sammy! It’s a unicorn!” he exclaimed, holding it up at Sam’s face. 

“I see that. Whaddya want to name it?” Sam asked. Dean paused to think for a few minutes, looking the unicorn in the face. 

“Uh…” he pouted. Sam watched Dean as he sat back down, legs stretched out as he thought. “Ooh! ‘M gonna name ‘im Moosey!”

“Moosey?” Sam asked, confused. It was a unicorn, his brother did establish that. 

“Yeah! Be-b.. ‘Cause my favourite thing is Sammy an-and he is tall like a moose!” Dean explained, struggling to get some of the words out.  
Sam’s heart completely melted. 

“Aw, Dean. Thank you, you’re too cute.” Dean blushed, hugging the unicorn to him. 

“I woves you, Sammy.” Dean said, running back up and hugging his brother. Sam hugged him back, squeezing him lovingly. He brushed his fingers across Dean’s back, which seemed to tickle him, and he erupted into giggles. 

“Alright, how about we pick up a few more things and then we can go home, huh?” Sam picked the boy up, raising himself back to his feet. Dean nodded, holding Moosey tightly in his hands. He reached for the cart, pushing it back out of the aisle after grabbing a few more things from the shelves such as colouring books and crayons, toy cars and a small baggie of Mega Bloks. 

They went around the store, stopping off to get some child-friendly soaps and some food for Dean, as well as some plastic plates and cutlery. It wasn’t long until they headed for the checkout, Dean playing around with Moosey in Sam’s hold. 

Once they reached the cashier, Sam started putting everything on the conveyor belt. The lady, who looked to be in her mid-thirties with glasses on looked up and over at Dean, who was reluctantly giving Sam Moosey. 

“Don’t worry Dean, I’ll give him back to you straight after, okay?” The little boy just whined and pouted into Sam’s neck. 

“Oh, well isn’t he just adorable?” She stated, picking up the unicorn and scanning the item. “Here, little guy, you can have him back now.” she said. She held the stuffed animal in front of him, and he blushed, taking it from her. 

“Fank you, lady.” he said, hugging Moosey to his chest. She grinned, reaching forward and rubbing the back of his head lightly. He leaned back into her touch, but only for a few seconds before she pulled away. She continued to scan their items. 

“So, how old is he?” she asked Sam, glancing up at him for a second before placing the batman figurine in a bag. She reached over the counter and scanned the car seat still in the cart. 

“Just over the ripe age of three.” he told her, shifting his arm to hold Dean up better. She chuckled, scanning the last item on the belt — the applesauce — before tapping a few things into the computer. 

“Oh, don’t worry, they only get tougher with age.” she teased. She told Sam the price and he pulled out his card. 

“Believe me, I know.” Once he finished paying, the lady reached underneath the counter and pulled out a sucker, handing it to Dean. He beamed, taking it from her, once again thanking her in his childlike way. 

“You are so welcome, sweetheart. You be good for your daddy now, okay?” Sam heart dropped a bit, and began to speak up when Dean cut him off. 

“Sammy my brother. I don’ have a mommy and daddy.” Dean told her nonchalantly, tugging at the wrapper with his little fingers. The lady blanched, surprise written all over her face. She turned to Sam, immediately expressing her apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I just thought..” she trailed off.

“It’s alright. Dean here is my little brother, our mom was killed in a house fire when he was just a few months old. Dad went off for the man who was responsible for it, and I was left to look after this little guy. He did find the man a year later, but unfortunately passed away a few days after he got him.” It was mostly true, what he had said. Although, of course, some of the details were reversed and changed to suit it better.

“Oh, that’s horrible. Luckily you have big brother watching out for you, sugar.” she spoke to Dean this time, as Sam put all the bags in the cart. 

“Yeah, I woves Sammy. I named my unicorn after ‘im.” 

“That’s real sweet, Dean.” he blushed again, hiding his face in Sam’s neck, who chuckled. He thanked the lady once again, and said goodbye to her. He asked for a hug from her, and she gladly gave him one. 

After Sam had packed everything into the car, he sat Dean on the trunk — who was occupied with Moosey — while he opened up the box. He assembled what was needed with the car seat for Dean, and placed it in the middle of the rear seat. After making sure it would stay in place, he backed out of the car and picked up his brother. 

“Alright.” he crouched in the doorway and placed Dean in the seat, buckling him up. “There we go. See? All safe and secure.” 

“B-but, Sammy, I wanna sit wiv you.” he said, bottom lip trembling once again. 

“Oh, bud, I’m sorry. You can’t. It isn’t safe up in the front.” he told Dean, taking his small hand in his large one. 

“But I wanna sit wiv Sammy!” Dean cried, tears threatening to spill from his green eyes. Sam sighed, he really didn’t want to have to say no to his brother. 

“No, Dean.” Sam gently wiped the tears from Dean’s cheeks. He unwrapped the sucker for his brother, placing it in his hand. “How about you have that, and by the time you’re done, we’ll be home, alright? You only have to be back here for a little longer. I promise.”

“Promise?” 

“Yeah, little guy. I do.” Dean still didn’t seem convinced, and the little whimpers were heartbreaking. Sam kissed his brother’s nose, which, to Sam’s delight, made Dean giggle. He resorted to making him laugh for a bit to get his mind off sitting in the back of the Impala. He tickled Dean under his chin, tickled his sides as well.  
Once Dean was gasping for air, and begging Sam to stop, he kissed his forehead, getting out of the back and into the driver’s seat. He started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

He soon found himself looking up at the rearview mirror every few minutes to check on his baby brother. He was contently sucking the lollipop, Moosey sitting in his lap.  
They were ten minutes into the drive when Sam noticed Dean nodding off. His head would slowly lower to his shoulder when he’d startle and wake back up, only to repeat the same thing all over again, like he was fighting to stay awake.  
Sam smirked as he focused back on the road. 

When Sam pulled into the garage, Dean was completely immobile, lollipop hanging out of his mouth. Sam snapped another picture at the adorable sight before he gently pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and tossed it away. He unbuckled Dean from his seat, lifting the sleeping boy up and out of the car. Sam opened the trunk and pulled out all the bags from the store and held them in one hand while his other carried Dean into the war room. 

He checked his watch after he set everything down on the table. It was quarter-past seven, and from his experience, he figured he’d better put Dean down to sleep soon. He’d give him something to eat— the boy was probably hungry — and then give him a bath before nighttime. So, he brushed Dean’s locks out of his face and bounced him up and down a bit.

“C’mon buddy, wake up.” he said gently. The little boy still slept, breath puffing out into Sam’s exposed skin. “Dean,” Sam cooed, rubbing his back. Dean whined softly, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly. “Hey, little boy. You hungry?” Dean nodded, poking his bottom lip out. Sam was surprised he was such a calm child, he had expected a bit more energy from the kid. Of course, he was probably extra tired from the day they had, and he knew he could expect a naked three year old running around the halls by morning.  
“Alright, what would you like?” Sam asked him, digging through the bags. 

“Macaroni, pwease Sammy.” Dean had picked that out at the store himself, but of course he made sure it had extra cheese. 

“Alright, one bowl of mac ‘n cheese coming right up, sir.” he teased, straightening up as though he were a waiter. He set down a few books on a chair so Dean could sit higher up, and he set Dean down on top of them. He pulled out a notepad he kept in his jacket pocket, pretending to write down Dean’s order. “Anything to drink?” Dean giggled and nodded his head, amused with Sam’s acting. “And what shall that be, sir?” 

“Juice, pwease!” 

“And one glass of fresh, cold apple juice as well for the young man. You’re food shall be ready soon, my friend.” He bent forward and ruffled Dean’s hair before turning to walk to the stove. He opened up the box, emptying out it’s contents. He smiled as he heard Dean mumbling to himself as he played with Moosey. 

As he set the pot on the stove, he opened a juice box, and poured it in a small glass for his brother, tossing a straw in there as well. He did a bit of a dance as he made his way to his brother, placing the glass on the steel table. Dean laughed and clapped loudly, grabbing the cup and sipping his juice — which, although he didn’t seem to mind, was neither cold nor fresh — while he watched Sam walk back to the stove and continue with Dean’s supper. 

Five minutes later, Sam placed two bowls of macaroni and cheese on the table. Sam sat across from his brother, and began eating the warm meal. Dean was a bit preoccupied with Moosey to eat.

“De, put Moosey down, it’s dinnertime.” Sam reminded him, tapping the table to get his attention. The little boy looked up, and hesitantly put Moosey on the table beside him, turning the stuffed animal’s body to face him. He picked up his fork, poking the noodles and trying to get one noodle on each tine. He was quite unsuccessful, as he’d either get several on one or he’d poke it in the wrong spot. He whined at his predicament, and reluctantly put the fork in his mouth, biting off the noodles and chewing on them. Once he swallowed, he tried again. Sam sighed, they’d be there for hours if Dean tried to do that every single time. “Dean,” he said, putting his own fork down, “don’t play with your food, bud.” 

“Sorry Sammy.” Dean said. He finished what was on his fork and continued to eat normally. He took another sip from his glass, frowning when no juice came up through the straw. “Uh oh.” he said, holding up his glass with his hands. He held it above his head and peered through the bottom. “Sammy, no more juice.” Dean stated, holding his arm out so Sam could see. Sam nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

 

“You still thirsty?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll refill your cup. But only water this time, ‘kay buddy?” Dean nodded, and went back to eating. Sam rinsed out both the cup and the straw, filling it up halfway and setting it back down on the table. He went to reach for a beer, but he felt as though he’d feel guilty about drinking it in front of his brother, so he settled with water as well. Sam waited for Dean to finish his dinner, who was getting it all over his face. He’d definitely need to give Dean a bath afterwards.  
Dean scraped up the last of the macaroni onto his fork and put it into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he dropped the fork into the bowl, which rang throughout the kitchen loudly.

“‘M done, Sammy.” 

“Good boy, you ate it all!” Sam praised, picking up Dean’s bowl and stacking it onto his. Dean beamed, picking up Moosey and hugging him to his chest. “Finish your water and then we can get you in a bath. I have a surprise for you later.” Dean gasped, bouncing up and down in glee. 

“Wha’ is it?” He asked, climbing down from his seat, holding his now empty cup, as Sam placed their dishes in the sink. He’d wash them once Dean was asleep. Sam chuckled, leaning down to take Dean’s glass once the boy raised it up to him. 

“Well, if I tell you, it isn’t much of a surprise, is it?” Sam told him, putting the cup in the sink as well. Dean smiled and ran up to Sam, hugging his leg. Sam was a bit surprised, but rubbed Dean’s head affectionately and smiled down at him. 

“I woves you, Sammy.” 

“I love you, too, De.” Dean let go of his leg, turning around to grab Moosey from the tabletop. Sam dug through some of their bags and pulled out what would be needed for tonight, placing them in an empty bag to take with them. “Alright, little guy, I think it’s time for a bath.” 

“M’kay.” Dean replied with, holding his stuffed unicorn by the foot. Sam took Dean’s hand in his own, and led him out of the kitchen, down a few hallways and straight towards the bathroom. There were only a few actual bathtubs within the bunker; Sam knew he’d want to bathe Dean in a tub and not in a shower itself. 

Once the door was opened, Dean oohed and ran towards the porcelain tub. He stood on his tiptoes and rested his head on the tub, looking at nothing. Sam chuckled, setting the bag on the floor and picking up his brother. Dean squeaked in surprise, but giggled once Sam tickled underneath his chin. Sam kneeled on the ground, setting Dean down in front of him. He turned the water on, making sure the temperature was neither too hot nor cold for his brother. Once the water started pouring from the tap, Sam began to undress Dean, who stood there patiently. 

“Y’know, I kind of expected you to be a bit more wild, buddy.” Sam told Dean honestly, gently pulling Dean’s oversized shirt above his head. Dean raised his arms to help. The little boy giggled, as though he were telling Sam, just you wait. 

When the water was high enough for the boy to sit down in, but without drowning him, Sam lifted Dean into the bathtub. He had made sure to put Moosey on the counter, away from the tub to keep him from getting wet. Dean began splashing around once he was in the water, laughing when he accidently got Sam’s shirt wet. He did apologise, which Sam thanked him for.  
The now older Winchester let Dean play around for a bit while he got a towel from the closet across the room. Dean seemed content without any toys, and was collecting water in his cupped hands, watching with fascination as it slipped through his fingers and back into the bathtub. 

Sam sat back down beside the tub, a bath toy in hand. 

“What is dat?” Dean asked, tilting his head. Sam held his hand up, and Dean gasped. It was a little plastic toy car that Sam found at the store, meant for bathtime. “Ooh! For me?” Dean questioned, making grabbing motions with his hands. Sam nodded. 

“It’s a little Impala, just like the big one we rode in earlier.” 

“A ‘Pala?”

“Uh huh. All for you. It can be used in and outside the bathtub, too.” Sam handed Dean his new toy, and the boy instantly grinned. 

“It pwetty.” Dean told Sam, looking it over. 

“She is a pretty car, yeah. Now you have a miniature one!” Sam said, reaching for a small cloth to wash his little brother with. Dean began making little engine sounds with his mouth, running the car across the bathtub’s edge. 

 

The washing up went quite smoothly and to Sam’s liking. Dean remained overly patient and didn’t squirm around too much when Sam went about washing his hair. The only problem that arose was that Dean had no intention of getting out of the bathtub. The bubbles from the soap amused him so much, that he dropped the Impala into the water and focused on the bubbles instead. Sam tried to offer him a treat as a bribe, but Dean didn’t care for anything. 

“C’mon, Dean,” Sam tried, widening his eyes and giving his brother the ‘puppy dog’ look, “For me?” 

“But I don’ wanna.” Dean protested, pouting. Sam sighed. He figured he could try to create some kind of story that would get him out.

“Okay,” Sam shrugged, putting on a nonchalant face, “You can stay in there, but I think I’m going to take Moosey with me for storytime. I bought a special book just for a little boy, but I think I’ll just read it to Moosey instead.” Sam said, body turned around so he was facing the stuffed unicorn. Dean stopped playing, watching as Sam stood up and headed towards the counter where Moosey lay.

Dean whimpered, he didn’t want Sammy to leave him! And he definitely wanted storytime. When Sam grabbed Moosey and stepped towards the door, hand on the brass handle, Dean whined and began crying. Sam smirked to himself in satisfaction, it seemed to have worked. He turned on his heel, putting on a worried frown.

“What’s wrong, Dean? I thought you wouldn’t mind.” Dean only raised his arms up, sobbing louder. 

“Sammy!” he cried. Sam stepped forward, kneeling down and taking the towel in his hand. He picked up his wet, crying brother and wrapped him in the soft towel, hugging his little body to his own. 

“It’s okay, buddy. Shh. It’s okay, I won’t leave you here alone. Shh.” Dean continued to cry, pressing his face into Sam’s shoulder. Sam rubbed Dean’s back, shushing him softly.  
Dean’s sobs began to quiet into sniffles, and soon his laboured breathing calmed. “Let’s get you dressed and your teeth brushed, so we can go have storytime before bed, ‘kay?” Sam said, kissing the top of Dean’s head. Dean nodded, leaning back and wiping his eyes. “Do you need to use the toilet at all?” Dean bit his bottom lip a bit, but nodded anyway. Sam led him the toilet and let Dean do his business, flushing the toilet for him and helping him wash his hands.  
Sam sat back on the floor, pulling Dean to him. 

Sam pulled out the Batman pajamas and the pack of underwear from the plastic bag, and set them on the floor. He tore open the little bag, pulling out a pair that had several small Batman symbols across the fabric. He dried Dean off a bit, rubbing his hair with the towel, laughing a bit when it stuck up in several different directions. Dean stepped off of Sam’s thigh, and raised a leg for Sam to put the underwear on. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck to help with his balance as Sam dressed him in his pajamas.  
Sam reached up and pulled both of their toothbrushes off of the counter — he had brought them in the washroom with them — and handed Dean the red one. He stood up and set Dean on the counter, putting a small amount of toothpaste onto his brush and a larger portion on his own. He began brushing his teeth, and directed Dean to do the same, who did so with ease.  
Once they finished, Sam helped Dean spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse his mouth. 

The little boy yawned loudly, mouth widening open. Sam handed Dean Moosey, who took it gratefully and hugged him to his chest.

“‘M tired, Sammy.” 

“I know bud. Let’s get you to bed.” Sam picked up the toddler, who relaxed in his arms and leaned his head on his shoulder. He left everything in the washroom, deciding to gather everything up later. He made his way to Dean’s room, opening his door with his foot and turning on the lights. He pulled back the covers and laid Dean down on the mattress. Dean sighed in content, snuggling up to the pillow and his stuffed unicorn. Sam ruffled his hair, and told him he’d be right back, that he just had to go grab Dean’s book.  
Sam eyes had first laid on the children’s book that Dean used to read to him when he was a kid. Harold and the Purple Crayon. There was something about the book that let his imagination travel to different realities that he could create. 

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, and Dean left his spot at the pillow to cuddle up to his brother. Sam rubbed Dean’s arm as he opened the book, and began reading. Once he was halfway into the children’s book, he hadn’t realized that Dean was fast asleep next to Sam. When the book was finished, Sam smiled down at his brother. He was adorable, Sam couldn’t deny it. His manliness dissipated the minute he laid eyes on younger Dean. He didn’t think he could deny much to his brother. He’d been longing to see a smile from his brother for years now, and the happiness that Dean had now filled that. 

Sam silently lifted himself from Dean’s bed, pulling the covers over his small body. He stared at Dean for a few minutes, glad to see that Dean could be happy. He turned and headed for the door, shutting off the lights and closing the door, keeping it cracked open a bit of some light and so it would be easier for Dean to get out of the room if he needed.  
“G’night, Dean.” Sam whispered, before leaving his doorway.


	2. I'll Take Care Of You

Sam spent a bit of time organizing all of Dean’s new things, putting everything away where it needed to go. He was now sat at on of the libraries tables, nursing a beer. He was glad Dean wasn’t being a pain in the ass, or he’d be nursing a headache as well. He supposed Dean had always been a bit of a calm child, their dad did trust him to look after Sam thirty odd years ago. He’d remember to thank Dean for that (again), once he turned him back. 

It was half past two when Sam realized he’d better get some shut eye if he were going to continue to care for Dean. Nothing that Sam had read so far gave any answers to their dilemma. He figured it would be a bit easier if he tried to contact Cas, leave him a message on his cell phone and hope he’d get it. 

“Cas, hey, it’s Sam. Listen, we need your help. Dean was cursed and turned to a little kid, and I don’t know how to reverse it. The language the witch spoke was most likely ancient, I couldn’t understand it. If you could help me, that would be great. Uh, please try to get back to me soon, Cas.”   
He finished the message, putting the phone down on the table and rubbing his eyes. God, he hoped he could get Dean back to his normal age. Not that he disliked this version of his brother, it was nice to see him happy. Yet, he’d rather his tough-as-steel brother than a little kid. Of course, he’d take care of Dean until the spell was reversed, he wouldn’t be like their father. Depriving his childhood from Dean. 

Sam headed to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water before he headed to bed. As he gulped down the water, a sudden loud cry rang through the air. Sam flinched, turning his head to the doorway. The glass slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor as he sprinted towards Dean’s room. “Dean!” Sam shouted, nudging the door open. The little boy was curled up in a ball on the bed, Moosey held tightly in his arms. Dean’s head shot up, wide green eyes glistening with tears. Dean shakily sat up, and Sam sits on the side of the bed, looking down at Dean with worry. “Dean, are you alright? Are you hurt?” He leaned forward and turned on one of the lamps, searching Dean’s little body for any injuries. He was without any, to Sam’s relief.   
Suddenly Dean lunged forward, throwing himself into Sam’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder. 

“Sammy!” he cried out, gripping a fistful of Sam’s shirt collar, burying his face into Sam’s neck. Sam was at least a bit surprised, but more so confused as he rubbed Dean’s back.   
Oh god, it must’ve been a nightmare.

“Shh, shh.” Sam cooed into Dean’s ear, one hand on his back and the other carding through his hair. “Did you have a bad dream, De?” he asked him, to which the little boy only nodded. “Okay, do you wanna tell me about it?” Sam offered, shifting so he was resting against the headboard. Sam waited for an answer, but never got one. Dean stayed silent, save for the choked out sobs coming from him. 

Sam knew older Dean had nightmares regularly, but what bothered him was that he was having them at such a young age. He figured this nightmare correlated with everything older Dean has gone through, fought through. He’d hear Dean at night, knowing that there wasn’t anything he could do to help him. Not really. So, he did what he could for now; try to protect his brother from his own demons. 

“It’s okay Dean, I’m going to keep you safe, alright? ‘M not going to let anyone hurt you, buddy. Shh. I’ll protect you.” 

Dean’s crying soon came to a stop. He curled in on himself, letting go of Sam’s shirt. Wrapped an arm around Sam’s bicep, holding on to his brother. Sam pushed Dean’s hair out of his eyes, running his fingers through the locks. He started humming a little tune he remembered from his childhood, but he couldn’t quite place the name with the notes. He hoped it would soothe the boy to sleep, and hopefully it would be a dreamless sleep, too.   
It wasn’t long until Sam felt little steady puffs of air on his collarbone. Dean was asleep, and Sam couldn’t bother himself to put Dean down and head to his own room. He shifted until he was lying down, head on pillow, Dean on lying on top of him. He soon fell asleep as well, light from the lamp and hallway forgotten. 

 

Sam’s phone buzzing woke him up several hours later. He squinted at the light, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He blinked a few times, willing his vision to settle. He almost shot up out of the bed, but remembered Dean, was still atop him, fast asleep. He quickly set the kid down, making sure he was still sleeping before heading out of the room. He pressed the ‘talk’ button, answering the phone as he stopped outside of the bedroom door.

“Cas! Hey, man.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a yawn. “Thank you for callin’ me back.” Sam leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. 

“Of course, Sam. I apologize, I mistakenly left my phone in the room. How is Dean?” Sam turned, peeking his head into the room to see Dean snuggled up to a pillow. 

“Uh, currently? He’s asleep. But, still a three year old.” Sam replied, closing the door again and heading down the hallway.

“Yes, as I had thought. I doubt the spell cast on him will just wear away in time.” Castiel said. Sam could hear a bit off ruffling from his end. Sam stopped in the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping the cap off. 

“Yeah. That’s what I had thought beforehand. Dean and I had thought that all the spells that were cast would wear off once we killed the witch. But,” Sam took a sip, “I guess not.” 

“Have you look through the articles in the Men of Letters archives?” 

“Yep. Nothing I’ve read so far said anything about de-aging curses. I mean, I didn’t have much time to read, little Dean had a nightmare and I fell asleep with him for a while. I’ll have to try to find some more time today for research.”

“Alright,” Cas paused, “did he mention what his nightmare was about?” 

“No. Why? Do you think he still has some of his memories?” 

“I’d think so, it wouldn’t be too unusual. He knew who you were, right?” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, pulling a chair out and sitting down. He yawned, not bothering to stifle it and took another sip of his beer. 

“Hm. Well, Sam. I don’t think it would make much a difference for me to head over to the bunker. With where I am, it would take a few days.” Cas told him. Sam nodded to himself, scratching at his neck.

“Yeah, no, I understand.” 

“I’ll look around myself, see if I can find an answer. You don’t happen to remember what the spell sounded like, do you?” 

“Uh, as a matter of fact, I do.” Sam — with not much ease — repeated what he had heard the witch chanting. Cas thanked him and reminded Sam that they’d find something, and that he shouldn’t worry. “Thank you, Cas. I appreciate that.” Sam said. He gulped down the rest of his beer, pushing the bottle to the side. 

“Of course. I’ll get back to you later. Try to get some more rest, no doubt Dean will keep you up for a while.” 

“Yeah. Again, thanks, Cas.” Sam hung up, tossing his phone down and leaning back in the chair, stretching his arms up above his head. “Yeah, I seriously need more sleep.” He said to himself.   
Five minutes later, Sam checked on Dean, who seemed to be sleeping fine, and without any worries. He smiled, closing the door and heading to his own room. Pulling back the covers, he settled down, falling asleep in record time. 

 

 

The pull of his blanket wakes Sam up. He lies still, hand slowly creeping up under his pillow, face and body relaxed as though he were still asleep.   
Another tug.   
This time, the blanket shifted and was pulled towards the ground. Sam waits for something to happen, another tug, as his hand rests on the gun. When he feels the side of the bed dip, he opened his eyes and whisks the gun out from under the pillow, turning to his side and aiming the gun at the figure sitting on the duvet. A little squeak emerges from the figure from Sam’s sudden movements, and it takes a few seconds for it to register in Sam’s mind that it was not, in fact, a monster who had gotten into the bunker, but Dean. The room was poorly lit, due to not having windows, and with Sam’s morning-blurred eyes, he could barely make out the shape of his brother. 

“Sammy?” Dean said, voice laced with both concern and fear. Sam leaned forward, turning on his bedside lamp and blinking profusely to clear his vision. 

“Dean, what’re you doin’?” Sam asked, voice hoarse and thick from sleep. He sat upright, running his fingers through his own hair with a yawn. The little boy held his stuffed unicorn tightly, still clad in Batman pajamas that were most certainly not straightened on his body. 

“I wanted t’ see Sammy.” Dean explained, sitting down on the bed, legs stretched out before him. His hair was mussed and sticking up in several different directions, while his tired eyes were hooded and almost unfocused.

“You wanted to see me, huh? And why is that?” Sam questioned, leaning forward and gathering Dean up in his arms. Dean giggled and snuggled into Sam’s body, head underneath his chin. 

“‘Cause I missed ya.” Dean said, fiddling with Moosey’s ear. Sam chuckled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and removing the covers. 

“Well, guess what?” Dean tilted his head in wonder. 

“What?”

“I missed you too, De. How about we go get some breakfast ready and then we can do whatever you want for today. Sound good?” Dean nodded his head enthusiastically, and was practically bouncing out of Sam’s arms. “Alright, buddy. Pancakes sound good?”

 

The pancakes that sat on Dean’s plate were soggy from an overabundance of maple syrup. He insisted that they tasted better that way, but Sam would agree to disagree. Sam waited for his brother to finish up, as he had just heated up a wrap he had in the fridge from a few days before. Dean’s face was covered in the sticky syrup, and Sam knew he might have trouble washing it all off. But, he didn’t think it would be bad enough that he’d need a bath. 

Once Dean had announced that he was finished, Sam took both of their plates and put them in the sink. Sam urged Dean to finish his orange juice, but Dean complained that the ‘thick stuff’ made it too sweet and he’d rather not drink the rest of it. Sam allowed it, and carried Dean to the washroom to clean up.  
He didn’t need a bath after all, the syrup was only covering his face. Sam took a washcloth and wet it with warm water. Dean complied and stood still, listening to his brother and choosing to not run away. Sam wiped the grime off of his face, and took a comb to his hair and brushed down. Dean giggled when Sam booped his nose with the end of the comb, and leaned down to kiss if afterwards. Dean’s cheeks grew warm; Sam thought it was quite cute that he got embarrassed with affection.   
The boys finished in the bathroom and headed out to Dean’s room, where Sam changed him into the little red and blue baseball tee and the grey sweatpants. Dean was a bit squirmy, and it was obvious that he desperately wanted to do something else. Sam finished quickly, and decided that what he was currently wearing was suitable enough. 

The two walked out to the war room and towards the library. Sam really felt like he had to do some more research, it was an itching feeling that he just wanted to scratch at. Nevertheless, he promised Dean he’d do whatever he wanted for the day, and he’d most definitely stick to that.

“Alright, Dean. What’s first on our list, bud?” Sam asked him, holding his hand as Dean jumped up each of the three steps into the room. When Dean reached the top step, he shrugged and tried to climb up onto one of the wooden chairs. Sam lifted him up and placed him on the table, allowing him to sit there instead. Sam sat down, turned towards his brother. He pushed all of the books further down the table and out of the way. “We could watch a movie?” Sam suggested. He knew it wasn’t too great of an idea, but at least it got Dean thinking. Dean shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip in thought. “What about your toy car? We could do a huge race with that.” Dean didn’t seem too interested. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much else to do in Lebanon, it barely housed three hundred people on its own. 

“Can we go park? I wanna go park.” Dean told Sam, eyes widening at the thought. Sam sighed, they didn’t have a playground here. 

“I don’t think so, buddy. There isn’t a park around here. I’m sorry.” Sam explained, giving the little boy a sad smile. Dean’s face fell, and he began to pout. 

“Okay.” He said sadly, and hugged Moosey tightly. His eyes became watery, and his head bowed down. Sam lunged forward and took the boy into his arms, hugging him to his chest.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, we can find something else to do.” Sam said, brushing back Dean’s long hair with his fingers. Dean only sniffled, he obviously wanted to go to a park. “Hey, how about this, we can go to the next town over and see if there is anything fun do over there. Alright?” Dean’s head perked up at the idea, and he beamed up at Sam.

“Park?” 

“Yeah, we’ll see if we can find a park to play at. Let’s get ready to head out, shall we?” 

 

Sam packed a bag full of snacks and extra clothes, just in case it rained or Dean got dirty. He had checked the weather on his phone; it seemed like it was going to be all sun and bright skies for the day. Dean was tossing Moosey up in the air and catching it with his hands as he waited for Sam to finish packing. He insisted on bringing his stuffed animal with him, and that he’d never want to go anywhere without it. 

Once both Dean and Sam were situated in the Impala, Sam drove out of the bunkers garage and onto the dirt road, taking a left turn that would lead them down the asphalt and towards Smith Center, where he was sure there would be a park there. 

When they pulled up to Wagner Park, located in the middle of the town, Dean could barely contain himself once he saw the wooden play structure threw the window. He was squealing and squirming in his car seat, eager to get outside and play. Sam parked up at the side of the road and got out of the car, opening the passenger door and unbuckling Dean from his seat. He kept shifting in Sam’s arms, and once Sam passed the fencing around the playground, Dean practically jumped out of Sam’s arms. Sam bent down and caught him before he fell, face first into the sand, and let him down to the ground.

“Alright, alright, calm down, kiddo.” Sam let go of his brother, and watched as he ran over to the junction of slides situated in the middle of the playground. Sam watched with minor worry as Dean climbed up the steps, and sat down at the top of the slide. 

“Sammy! Sammy! Watch me go!” Dean cried, pushing himself down the twisted slide. Sam stepped forward, towards the base of the slide, ready to catch his brother — who was laughing the entire time as he slid down — if he was going to fast. Luckily, he didn’t, and he scooted himself forward to step off and onto the ground, a large grin plastered on his face. Sam’s pulse slowed once he realised his brother was safe, and uninjured. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust playgrounds and their equipment - okay, he really didn’t trust them, because the last time he came in contact with one was when he was ten and he got pushed off the platform and it gave him a concussion.   
To his relief, though, there weren’t any other children around that could harm his little brother. 

The day consisted of Dean spending about an hour on the swingset, begging Sam to push him, to which he did. When the little boy got tired of the swings, he ran off to the Merry-Go-Round, and began pushing it himself. Sam asked for him to not get on, and once Sam showed him how fast the wheel could spin, Dean backed away in fear and gripped onto Sam’s leg. He quickly ushered the boy to some of the monkey bars instead, before he began crying.   
Sam started off with helping his brother on the lower bars, picking him up and instructing Dean to grab onto each bar as Sam walked along. Sam let go of his tight grip, and held him loosely so it made it seem like Dean was doing all the work. Dean giggled once they got to the end, and began clapping for himself once he realised that he did all that “by himself”. Sam rubbed Dean’s cheek affectionately and asked him what he wanted to do next. He seemed interested in the old Dutch Mill that sat to their right, but he told Sam that he wanted to go down the slide again. 

This time, Dean wanted to go through the tube slide, and Sam allowed it. He was slightly more worried — he couldn’t exactly see his brother this time — but it passed as he heard Dean’s squeals as he slid down. His brother’s body poked out and he dangled his feet over the edge, staring up at Sam. Sam smiled over at Dean, who in turn smiled back and ran over to him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s legs. Sam chuckled, mussing Dean’s hair. 

“Fank you, Sammy.” 

“You’re welcome, buddy. What do you want to do now?” 

“‘M tired.” Dean told him, rubbing his cheek against Sam’s pant leg. Sam leaned down, picking up his brother and settling him on his hip. 

“You’re tired? How about you take a nap, De, and maybe we’ll have enough time to check out the rest of the park.” Sam suggested, already heading back to the car after shouldering the backpack on. Dean nodded and pressed his head to Sam’s shoulder, eyes closed. When Sam put him to lay down in the back, he laid a blanket over top of his body and closed the door. He figured he’d better call Cas to see if he’d gotten any news on how to reverse the spell. He dialed his number and waited for the fallen angel to answer. 

“Hello, Sam. How are you?” 

“Hey, Cas. I’m fine, thanks.” He answered. “Find anything on how to reverse it?” Sam sat on Baby’s trunk, angling his body so he could still see Dean through the rear window. 

“I’m not sure. I’ve looked through about a hundred books about spells and curses, and I have to say, I’ve found nothing about de-aging curses.” Sam sighed, rubbing his face with his palm. “Until,” Cas began, and Sam sat up straighter, “I found this book here.” Sam heard the rustling of pages being turned before Castiel spoke again. “I believe what your witch was speaking was Akkadian, an extinct East Semitic language. It’s so rarely used by witches these days, almost no one has ever recorded it’s use.”

“Do you think the Men of Letters would’ve kept track of it? I mean, it’s possible, right?” 

“I believe so.” Cas replied. “But, I don’t know if there will be anything about a de-aging curse.” 

“Well, we can’t give up hope. As much as I like seeing Dean happy,” Sam glanced at his sleeping brother, “I’d rather have him back to normal.” 

“Of course. I’ll keep looking, but I cannot guarantee that I’ll come across anything.” 

“Thank you, Cas. I appreciate it.” 

“Of course, Sam. Watch out for that boy.” Cas said, before Sam was met with silence on the other end. Sam knew Cas was talking both for older and younger Dean. He’d watch over his brother, much like the angel himself.   
Sam checked the time on his phone, it was just past three o’clock. He was surprised that the day had been going so fast. He’d let Dean sleep for a little while longer.

Sam busied himself with sorting through the trunk, organising all of their stuff. He figured Dean would appreciate it once they got him back.   
Half an hour later, Sam saw rustling from inside the car, and realised that Dean had awoken. He hopped off of the trunk and opened the right-side passenger door, greeting Dean with a smile and a hug. Dean was still sleepy, and it showed. Sam asked him if he was ready to head home, and he nodded. He picked him up and settled him in his car seat, shutting the door and opening his own. They pulled away from the curb and towards home. 

The car ride wasn’t long, but by the time they reached the bunker, Dean was fast asleep. Sam carried him to his bedroom, and set him down on the bed. The boy didn’t wake with all of the movements, but unconsciously snuggled into the pillow once more.   
Unfortunately, Sam couldn’t stay in the room with him, he desperately wanted to do some research, take a look into the MoL archives. He set Dean’s cell phone to vibrate and called him with his own, using it as a makeshift baby monitor, just in case Dean called for him and he couldn’t hear it from outside of the room. He slipped his own phone in his shirt breast pocket, and closed the door behind him as he headed out of Dean’s bedroom. 

 

Sam must’ve flipped through a dozen books already in the span of forty-five minutes. He hadn’t a better knowing of the curse now than he had before. There wasn’t any book or file so far that mentioned anything about Akkadian curses. Or de-aging curses on its own. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and stood up, heading back to the shelves to pull out more of the archives.   
By five-thirty-three, the table was covered with papers and books, and Sam was disheveled himself. He had gotten lucky, at first, as he read something about the language and its use in time. Although, it had never mentioned anything supernatural about it, and he was back to the shelves once more. He let out a heavy sigh, he didn’t know if he’d find anything. He could only hope that he would, he didn’t want Dean to be a kid forever. 

 

Sam heard Dean calling for him at six-fifteen. He didn’t sound distressed, just a bit confused and tired. Sam stood from the chair, ending the call as he headed to Dean’s room. He opened the door, and saw Dean sitting upright, clutching Moosey to his stomach. 

“Hey, little guy. How was your nap?” Sam asked him, stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean shrugged and rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists. 

“Hug?” Dean only asked, holding his arms out, Moosey forgotten about in his lap. Sam reached forward and picked up his brother, hugging him gently. Dean snuggled into Sam’s body, face resting in the crook of his neck. 

“Are you hungry, Dean?” Sam murmured, petting at the shorter hairs at the base of Dean’s neck. Dean nodded. Sam stood, heading toward the door. 

“No! Moosey!” Dean whined, reaching back to the bed. Sam apologised and handed his brother the stuffed animal, who took it gratefully. Sam walked them both to the kitchen, and set Dean down on his chair. Sam asked him what he wanted for dinner, but Dean didn’t have any preference. He decided on boiling some hot dogs. While it wasn’t his favourite, nor did it give off the greatest smell, it was easy and he knew he could manage it. Dean’s nose wrinkled at the scent, but he otherwise didn’t complain. 

Sam dished the cut up hot dogs onto a plate for his brother, waiting for the minute-rice to heat up in the microwave. It wasn’t the perfect meal, but it would have to do for tonight. Dean placed Moosey back on the table, like he had done last night, making sure the unicorn was facing him directly. He went to pick up the sliced hot dogs with his fingers, but the stern and displeasing look from Sam got him picking up his fork and eating with that instead.

 

Their nighttime routine went much like the night before, with Sam making sure his little brother was cleaned and dressed appropriately before reading him the same story — although Dean didn’t seem to mind — as Dean drifted off to sleep. Sam left the door open, both cell phones set up, just as before, and he headed back to the archives to continue reading for a few hours. Even though Dean was pretty calm, and not a mouthful to deal with, Sam was adamant on returning him to his normal age. He really did wonder if little Dean had any memory of being older. From experience, with Lucifer taking shotgun years before, he was still there inside his own mind. Maybe older Dean was still inside, just locked away for the time being.   
He thought about it a bit longer before continuing his research, until his exhaustion finally caught up with him.


	3. Damn Good Big Brother

It was three and a half days later when Sam received a phone call from Cas. 

“Sam, I think I found it.” 

Both he and Dean were situated in the war room, sitting on the floor and playing with a new set of toy cars Sam had picked up from the store earlier that day. Sam had given up on everything the Men of Letters kept in the bunker, as it led him no closer to a solution than when he started. He was also beginning to lose hope on finding a cure for his brother; it seemed like the curse that was cast upon him had no reversal spell. Of course, it was a bit far-fetched, the boys had never come across any spell that couldn’t be reversed, but Sam was exhausted after taking care of a child, who grew even more energetic with each day, and he began to believe that Dean was unfixable.  
If he were in a better state, he himself would criticize him on how he was thinking.

Yet, when those six words reached his ears, all hope and belief came right back. He startled poor Dean when Sam jumped up, pacing across the room, phone clutched tightly in hand. 

“Really? Cas, that’s great!” Sam exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in habit. He didn’t have to ask the ex-angel what he had found. 

“My original find was correct; the spell was spoken in Akkadian. And,” Sam heard Cas pause, flipping a piece of paper over, “I believe everything needed for the spell should be in the bunker. Except, one of the most vital ingredients, which may be more difficult to obtain.” 

“Well, what is it? I think the bunker is very equipped, Cas. I don’t think it’ll be too hard.” 

“Oh, no, not at all. You just need some of the victim’s blood.” Oh. Sam frowned, sighing and sitting down. He definitely didn’t want to hurt his little brother. “Well, I’ll figure something out, Cas. What’s the list?”  
Cas told Sam what he’d need for the reversal spell, which wasn’t much. 

“Luckily, the blood of the caster isn’t needed.” Cas said, to which Sam nodded to himself. 

“Good. Alright, Cas. Thanks, again, for helping me out. I appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome, Sam. I should only be gone for a few more days, I believe I’ll be able to return soon.” 

“Great. Okay, see you, Cas.” 

 

“Goodbye, Sam.” 

Sam hung up, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Finally, the spell could be reversed, and Dean would no longer be a child. Sam excused himself from Dean, trusting the boy to stay where he was as he went off to gather the ingredients needed. It was five minutes later when he returned, arms full. He set everything on the table, and lowered down in front of Dean. 

“Hey, De, can you help me with something?” Sam asked. Dean looked up from his cars, tilting his head.

“Okay. I help Sammy!” Sam smiled, lifting Dean off of the floor and placing him on the table, beside a bundle of clothing Sam brought as well. 

“Alright, this is very, very important to Sammy, okay? And it’s also very, very important to you.” Dean gave Sam a confused look, but widened his eyes when he saw Sam reach for the empty syringe and needle. “I need to, uh,” Sam paused, trying to figure out how to tell this to a three year old, “I need some of your blood, because it’s going to be sent far away and tested to make sure you’re gonna grow to be a big, strong boy.”

“Strong like Batman?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, mussing Dean’s hair, “just like Batman.” 

“‘Kay. It gonna hurt?” Dean asked, clutching Moosey tight. Sam gave him a sad smile, rubbing his little chubby cheek with his fingers. 

“I’m sorry, little guy. But it’ll only hurt a little bit, okay? Promise.” Dean whined, but nodded his head nonetheless. Sam rolled up Dean’s sleeve, searching for a vein in his pale skin. He found one easily, and raised the needle after rubbing the area with alcohol. Dean whimpered once the needle neared closer, and he buried his face in Sam’s chest. “I’m sorry, buddy. It’ll be so, so quick, you’ll barely feel it.” Sam waited for Dean to nod, and he began counting. “Three, two,” before he got to one, he pierced Dean’s skin with the needle, drawing blood from his arm. Dean whimpered once more, squeezing Sam’s hand with his other arm.  
“See? All over.” Sam removed the needle and placed the syringe on the table. Dean pushed himself away from his brother and looked down at his arm, where a bit of blood oozed from the puncture. Sam placed a bandaid over it, kissing his arm better after Dean’s request. 

“Am I gonna be strong, Sammy?” Dean asked, innocence sparked in his bright green eyes. Sam nodded, taking both of Dean’s hands in his own. 

“Yeah, De. You’re going to grow up to be the strongest man I’ll ever come to know.” 

 

It wasn’t too long until Dean was back to his normal size and age. Sam had dressed younger Dean in his regular clothes, so he wouldn’t have to see Dean in all of his ‘glory’. Dean was shocked when Sam pulled him into a hug, tightly pressed into his now younger brother. Nevertheless, he held Sam close, pulling his head down to his shoulder. He didn’t know what was wrong with his brother, — or all the kid toys all over the floor — but he damn sure knew he’d try to help him. 

Sam seemed almost upset when Dean told him he had no recollection of the previous days, his only last memories being this bright light surrounding him before complete darkness. He had tried to ask Sam what happened, what was wrong, but Sam passed it off and told him that he must be tired and that Dean should head to bed. Dean wouldn’t argue, frankly, he was exhausted and his head ached. He patted Sam on the shoulder and walked off to his room, not bothering to change out of his clothes as he lay down on the bed, and passed out no sooner than someone could say ‘Impala’.

Sam stayed behind and began cleaning up. He started with all the toys, packing them away, figuring he’d take ‘em to a thrift store nearby. He tossed away most of the food he had purchased for his brother, along with the juices.  
But he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of that stupid unicorn.  
When every child item was removed or stored away in the bunker, along with the carseat, Sam let himself get comfortable and sleep soundly, no longer worried about an upcoming nightmare or little Dean’s safety anymore. 

 

Sam was awoken by a knock on his door, and the blinding light from the hallways. Dean was leaned against the doorframe, a pair of Batman pajamas in his hand. Sam blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes, sitting up and opening his mouth the explain when Dean stopped him.

“I know what happened.” Dean stepped forward and sat on the edge of Sam’s bed, while said man turned on the bedside lamps. “I, uh, I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass.” Dean chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, as he usually did. Sam huffed out a tired laugh, waving him off.

“You were actually fine. Believe it or not.” he teased, earning a smack on the arm from Dean. “You were actually kind of.. sweet, I guess. I guess I never really realized you were your own kid before dad came around and ruined that for you.” Dean rolled his eyes, but he still smiled. 

“So, did you have to clean up my poop?” Dean asked, a certain gleam in his eyes. Sam’s nose wrinkled.

“No, thank god. You were potty trained.” Sam told him. Dean frowned, muttering a ‘dammit’ to himself. 

“I killed the bitch, though. Right?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Unfortunately, the spell was still cast.” Sam replied. Dean nodded, and shifted on the mattress.

“Well, considering I never really got to embarrass you as a kid, you might want to watch out for the next week or so.” Dean joked. Sam made a mental note to hide his toothbrush from his brother after the last incident. 

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam mumbled. Dean chuckled and slapped down on Sam’s thigh, getting up from his bed. Sam sighed and tossed off his blanket, swinging his legs off the bed. 

“Well, there’s still some pancake batter left, so,” Dean headed for the door, “breakfast should be ready soon, Sasquatch. He paused, stopped just in the doorway and turned back around. “Hey, Sam?” Sam looked up, eyebrows raised. “Thanks for takin’ care of me. You make a pretty damn good big brother.” Sam nodded and smiled in thanks, and watched as Dean turned back and left his room, listening as his footsteps faded away. Yeah, having his brother back, it ain’t too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Once again, comments are very appreciated. Love ya'll.


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